


In Vino Veritas

by Greysgate



Category: Angel - Fandom, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 01:20:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14581815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greysgate/pseuds/Greysgate
Summary: Wesley is saved by Angel's son, Connor, and reveals the secret he's kept while under the influence.





	In Vino Veritas

It took a moment for my alcohol-fogged brain to recognize the visitor at my door. His youthful face was open and friendly, but there was a trace of wariness in his dark eyes. Of course, I knew who he was. I had seen him in action twice now, and the way he fought left no doubt about his sire’s identity. 

This was Angel’s son. 

But I couldn’t understand why he’d come knocking at my door at this ungodly hour of – I checked my watch – early afternoon. 

Then I remembered the previous night. 

I had been consoling myself with more than the usual number of boilermakers at my usual haunt, and on my stagger home, I was accosted by a pair of exceptionally rude vampires. A good brawl seemed just what I needed, and I waded in with both fists, reaching for whatever handy tool might make a decent stake. Only in my inebriated state, they made short work of me. 

Or would have, until the boy appeared out of nowhere. 

He dispatched them handily. I glanced down at my rumpled, slept-in shirt and saw that there were still traces of dust on me. Obviously, I survived, and put a hand to my throat as I remembered how close I’d been – yet again – to bloody death. 

Only the healing scar, slick and raised beneath my fingers, remained. No puncture marks, which was good, I suppose. I hadn’t been anyone’s dinner. 

I didn’t know whether to thank him or shut the door in his face for denying me release from my abject misery and self-hatred. After all, he was the reason I was ostracized. He, and my own erroneous decision. This was all my fault, and I knew it. I didn’t have the courage to take my own life as payment, and Fate seemed to be regularly cheating me of the opportunity to be killed. 

There must be a reason for that, but at the moment, I didn’t care to discover it. 

“I just came by to see that you were all right,” the youth said evenly. “You were pretty out of it last night. You remember… with the vampires?” 

“Yes,” I agreed. “The vampires. Bane of my existence.” 

“My name’s Steven. I thought we might go for coffee or something. Just so I can make sure you’re okay.” 

It was evident the boy didn’t know who I was – not surprising, after all. I’m sure whatever photos of me that remained in the hotel had been removed from sight long before he returned to this plane. He didn’t know I knew him, and I thought it best that it remain so. At least, for a little while. 

Having someone ask after my health was a pleasant change from the way things had been. There was a friendly expression on his face, a touch of genuine concern. I chose to enjoy that while I could, until Angel warned him away from me. 

Or killed me for speaking to his son. 

Either way, it made no difference to me. 

“Call me Judas,” I suggested, not wanting to give my real name, in case he might have heard it at home. Growing up where he had, under Holtz’ tender tutelage, I thought it unlikely that Connor – or Steven, as he was calling himself – would get the connection. 

I pocketed my wallet and keys, and followed him out the door into the bright midday sunshine. 

“So what do you do?” Connor asked me as we walked along the sidewalk toward the coffee shop. 

“Rogue demon hunter,” I mumbled automatically, falling back on my previous career because I had nothing better to say. “I work nights, mostly.” 

The boy grinned. “Well, if you want my advice, you ought to try working sober. You were a _sklarvok’s_ breath away from being dead last night.” 

I rolled my eyes at him and snapped without thinking, “That’s only if one wishes to continue being a rogue demon hunter. The retirement plan leaves much to be desired.” 

His expression grew serious. “You sound like you want to die.” 

I shrugged. “You wouldn’t understand, Steven. You’re young. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.” 

“I’ve done the work I was born to do,” he assured me hollowly, pain blossoming in his eyes. “Now there’s nothing left. My father’s dead. His work is done... I have no purpose, anymore.” 

For a moment, I just stared at him. 

_Angel was dead? His work was finished? How could that be? Wouldn’t someone have told me?_

Then I remembered. I was outcast. They no longer cared what I knew or didn’t know. 

I put down my head, slipped my hands into my pockets and considered this. “Surely you have friends here, Steven. Someone you can turn to…” 

The boy matched my pose as we strolled. “No, not really. There was one of my father’s friends, a lady. I thought we might do something together, but she just took off. She cared about him, not me.” 

_Angel was dead._ That thought kept reverberating through my consciousness, the echoes coming back to rattle the other things I was trying to absorb. I couldn’t imagine Cordelia just booting this boy out or disappearing for parts unknown. She wasn’t made that way. Nor was Fred. Either of them would have sacrificed their own lives for Angel’s son. He simply _couldn’t_ be talking about them. But then, who? 

“What about you? Why are you out here all alone?” Connor asked that question with such youthful innocence I almost believed he was. But Holtz raised him, so I knew better. Somehow, he had made peace with his natural father, and fought now by his side. The vampire’s son could never be innocent. 

“I betrayed my friends,” I answered slowly. “I thought I had all the answers, and that I couldn’t trust them with the truth. I was wrong.” 

Connor stopped walking. “Then they’ll forgive you,” he returned calmly. “Give them time.” 

I continued past the coffee shop, and after a few steps the boy caught up with me. Just a few doors down was a restaurant that served breakfast, lunch and dinner, and had a liquor license. I went in. 

“Breakfast?” I offered, and sat in amazement as I watched the youth wolf down an enormous pile of pancakes, eggs and bacon, as if he’d never eaten before. That sort of thing no longer tempted me, and when my belly growled in protest at the scent of the food, I ordered a bottle of wine. It didn’t matter that the stuff was bottled last week. All I cared about was that there was a lot of it. 

He eyed me as I poured the stuff down my ruined throat without tasting it. My stomach burned with a satisfactory glow as the alcohol ate away at the lining, and soon my head was swimming again. The pleasantly euphoric feeling gave great contrast to the guilt and self-hatred. 

“You should go home,” I told him. “Even though you may think you’re not wanted, chances are great that people may be looking for you.” 

Connor shrugged. “The motel room was only paid up until yesterday. But it’s okay. I’ll be fine on my own.” 

_Motel room. A paid room…_ This wasn’t adding up. I began to wonder if he was lying to me, or telling me the truth. He didn’t know I knew who he was, so he’d have no reason to lie. But if he was telling the truth… 

I shook my head. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. 

“What was it that you did, Judas, that was so bad your friends hate you now?” he asked gently. 

I looked up into his eyes, those dark eyes so like his father’s, so filled with pain and loss. I didn’t mean to tell him. I knew that, as soon as I did, he’d be gone from me. 

But as the Romans said, _In vino, veritas… In wine, truth._ Beware the honesty of a drunken man. 

“I was researching a prophecy,” my mouth said. “I went to great lengths to find the truth, but in the end, it was all lies. Only I didn’t know that, not until after.” 

I reached for the bottle, poured myself another glass, and took a deep drink. I’d have liked to drown in that glass. But when it was empty, my mouth opened again. 

“My friend had a child. A baby boy, so sweet. So innocent… I was convinced, by all the things I’d read, that the child was in danger.” I sighed, and poured another glass. “So I took him.” 

I looked up into Connor’s eyes, darker now with anticipation. He was almost smiling. 

“I took him, and I was going to go away and raise him, keep him safe.”  My hand went to my throat, and the memory of that terrible pain came back, fresh and new, hardly dulled at all by the liquor. “One of my friend’s enemies cut my throat and stole the baby from me.” 

The shock was evident in Connor’s face. This wasn’t what he was expecting at all. But I couldn’t look at him anymore. 

My guilt and I looked at the glass instead. 

“He and a woman who worked for him stole this child, not because they wanted to save it, but because they wanted to wound my friend. They wanted to hurt him, in a way that would never heal. It was not an act of love, but of hatred. And they didn’t care who they had to kill to get that child.” 

I looked up at the ceiling then, certain the boy’s eyes would go to the scar. 

“My friend loved his son. He was a good man, surrounded by good friends who would die for each other. And I used to be one of them… until I did the unforgivable.” I met the boy’s haunted eyes then, and saw that he was getting ready to bolt. “I can’t imagine what lies the child will be told as he grows up under the influence of such a man as Holtz.” I shrugged. “But it doesn’t matter now. Nothing matters to me, Steven. I’ve lost everything that was worth having. Don’t make the same mistake I did. Open your eyes and your heart, and let love and truth be your guides. Words can be lies. But deeds don’t lie. The truth always comes out when no one’s watching. And you can always believe someone with nothing to lose.” 

I lifted my glass as he ran from the restaurant, pulled the appropriate number of bills from my thinning wallet, and staggered back to my apartment alone, wondering how much longer the money would hold out, before I’d have to move to the street. 

Angel was dead. Or maybe it was Holtz. Either way, I wasn’t really sure it mattered to me one way or the other. But maybe now, Connor knew a little more of the truth than he did before I gave him breakfast.

FIN


End file.
